


Plans

by paintedbutton



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-05
Updated: 2013-07-05
Packaged: 2017-12-17 18:32:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/870677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paintedbutton/pseuds/paintedbutton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean hadn’t exactly planned on falling in love. Hell, he is 21, his plans had sure as hell not included anything but booze, parties and lots of sex sprinkled with some class work on top. That had been his plans at 18 at least. Now? Well, let’s just say things turn out differently than you want them to most of the time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plans

Dean hadn’t exactly planned on falling in love. Hell, he is 21, his plans had sure as hell not included anything but booze, parties and lots of sex sprinkled with some class work on top. That had been his plans at 18 at least. Now? Well, let’s just say things turn out differently than you want them to most of the time.

 

On the surface Castiel is pretty much Dean’s polar opposite. He’s quiet most of the time, he either runs around in paint smeared jeans and old band shirts – usually ‘borrowed’ from Dean only to end up in his wardrobe because of all the paint and charcoal splotches – or a geeky librarian get-up with no in-between, he’s not too fond of parties or drinking, he doesn’t understand most references and he’s sometimes very socially inept. He also likes his coffee black in the mornings and loves to hum along to Bob Dylan when he’s painting in the middle of the night. Dean knows because he’s been living with the guy for three years now. It started with a shared dorm room and ended with a cozy off-campus apartment and Dean resolutely ignoring blue eyes creeping into his dreams and fantasies. Rivers in Egypt have been very prominent in Dean’s life for a while now. Point is, Castiel doesn’t seem like the kind of guy someone like Dean would spend most of their time with and yet … yet, as cliché and stupid as it sounds, they fit like puzzle pieces in so many ways. Castiel has absences in his life Dean knows a thing or two about. He might not get all of the references but he has never minded Dean trying to remedy that. He is as fiercely protective of the people he loves as Dean is and the quietness only ever lasts until the first cup of coffee is finished. He may not generally party with Dean but their knight costumes would be nothing without his painstaking attention to detail. He pulls when Dean pushes, screams back when being screamed at and somehow, somehow they always meet in the middle after it all. He’s Cas and in the small hours of the morning, when he’s too tired or too drunk to function and Bob Dylan is playing through the wall, Dean acknowledges that there’s nobody he’s ever wanted more.

 

 

 

 

“You’re kidding me, right?!” He doesn’t spit his coffee over the table but it’s a near thing. Castiel blinks at him, completely unperturbed, and absentmindedly takes a sip of his own cup. There’s a splotch of paint on his neck, directly on his pulse point, that Dean would usually get distracted by except … “You want me to set you up?”

Castiel nods in response. “I believe that’s what I just said.” Biting back a whimper in response is harder than he ever thought possible, because Cas wants to date. And he wants Dean to set him up.

“With a girl?” He doesn’t know if it’s how small his voice sounds or what he says that makes Castiel chuckle.

“Obviously not seeing as I’m gay.” And that’s it. He doesn’t even hear his own agreement over the sound of blood rushing in his ears. The next gulp of coffee burns hotly down his throat. What the hell has he just gotten himself into?

 

 

 

 

Dean might be the most pathetic being on this earth ever. “What the hell am I supposed to do?” He can hear the ruffle of fabric and when he looks up Charlie is sitting cross legged across from him. She shrugs, letting her eyes wander to the side.

“Get him a dreamy boyfriend. You promised after all.”

“But … I _can’t_.”

“Sure you can. I have someone in mind actually. He’s about this tall, brown hair, green eyes, freckles, unhealthy crush on his car, …”

“Oh, fuck you.” Great, not even his best friend (except for Cas) is taking him seriously now. He lets his head fall back into Charlie’s pillow. The fact of the matter is, he can’t do this. He can’t set up a blind date for Cas. Nobody’s good enough for Cas … especially him.

“I mean it though. You’ve had this not-a-crush since before we met, why not try it?”

“No.” He feels her sigh, put upon, and a moment later her hair is tickling his nose. When he opens his eyes Charlie grins from above him.

“Alright, how about we watch some Star Trek then? Captain Kirk always helps, right? And then we can work on a game plan.” Dean’s smile in response is unusually weak. After all, the fact remains that he’s supposed to set up the guy he maybe possibly wants to trap in his own bed for the rest of eternity and he sure as hell can’t make it a blind date with himself and risk ruining everything. But he and Charlie have managed to win more than one battle in their time, maybe they can actually come up with something – even if this isn’t Moondoor. So he just nods and follows her to the couch. A Star Trek marathon might not solve anything but it sure as hell gets him in a better mood.

 

The plan they come up with is to find Cas the most perfect guy possible – which rules out everyone Dean knows. Charlie doesn’t agree with the plan but her plan was having Dean pull a Harry Burns, so Charlie gets no say in the matter. But perfect is hard to find. He needs someone, who can deal with Cas’s 3am bouts of creativity and make him the perfect cup of coffee in the morning. Someone that knows the right movies to deal with the aftermath of family phone calls, who can get him out of his shell without pressuring him and who will easily see past the awkward art geek façade. Someone to make him laugh until the corners of his eyes crinkle and who gets that incredibly dry sense of humor Cas is so fond of. He doesn’t let Charlie point out that he already knows someone like that, but he can see she wants to. The big question is where to find a guy like that?

 

 

 

 

Dean hasn’t even closed the door yet before Castiel is on him, trying to simultaneously divest him of his jacket and shirt.

“Umm –”

“I forgot an assignment I have for tomorrow, get naked.” There’s most definitely no blush rising on his cheeks, nor is his dick perking up at the matter of fact command. At all. Fuck.

“You’re not going to buy me dinner first?” he asks when he finally finds his voice. Castiel gives him a thoroughly annoyed look.

“Dean, please …” And fuck him if he can resist that voice. He follows Castiel to his bedroom, undressing on the way, and tries to think unsexy thoughts. It’s not like they’ve never done this before. Dean is far from ashamed of his body and sometimes Castiel just needs someone to quickly do what he needs without questions or money being an issue. It’s just that being under the steady scrutiny of those blue eyes … well, it does things to him. Still, he lets Castiel move him around like a puppet and spends the next hour in various poses so Castiel can do his sketches. That’s what friends are for, right? Castiel’s gaze is steady even when flicking between paper and him, full of concentration and something Dean can’t quite put a name to. He doesn’t know whether he loves or hates it (loves, definitely loves, if only -), this feeling like ants crawling over his skin. He adds _being able to pose for long amounts of time_ to his mental list of things Cas’s perfect guy needs. It at the very least stops the warm feeling from having Cas undress him but the new turmoil in his stomach is far from pleasant.

 

“Thank you.” Dean loves the way Cas smiles for him. He’s never seen him use that smile for anyone else and it’s downright gorgeous.

“Yeah, no problem.” Castiel’s hands are grey from charcoal, a smear on his temple where he’d scratched it some time ago. Dean can’t help but find him adorable like that, but he never says so. He knows people are generally irritated with Cas’s unkempt appearance but he wouldn’t have him any other way. “So how come _you_ forgot your assignment?” Castiel sighs and shakes his head.

“There has been a lot on my mind recently.” The way he looks at Dean when he says it feels significant but Dean doesn’t understand what it means. He doesn’t break eye contact as Dylan provides soft background noise from the radio.

 

 

 

“I can’t do it.” It’s impossible. There’s no one out there even marginally good enough for Castiel. There’s also no one listening to him. The one thing he’s learned from the last week is that every single one of his friends thinks he’s an idiot. Victor had snorted and rolled his eyes when told about Dean’s plan, Jo had grinned and nudged him only to get a look of utter disappointment a second later, Ash had just gripped his shoulder mumbling something or other and Benny had turned his eyes heavenward asking why he deserved this. He needs new friends. He’s also learned that lurking around libraries staring contemplatively at strangers is generally considered creepy and will almost get you punched in one case. Who’d have thought? As it is he still doesn’t have a date to present to Cas. And then of course there’s that nagging little voice in the back of his head that tells him maybe he hasn’t found anyone because he doesn’t want to, because he rather likes being the person Cas spends his nights on the couch with. The voice sounds incredibly similar to Sam, which just makes Dean ignore it all the more.

“Actually I think I might have someone.” He looks up at Charlie in surprise. She shrugs awkwardly before sitting down next to him across from Benny.

“You do?”

“Maybe … he’s in one of my classes. Pretty swoon-worthy, takes care of his family, likes Sci-Fi and good music. He’s not overly into art but he seemed interested enough. I think it could fit.” Dean stares at the ground in front of him, swallowing. It sounds … well, decent enough. The sinking feeling in his stomach is nothing but apprehension on Cas’s behalf.

“Can I meet him?”

“Don’t trust my judgment Winchester?” She’s teasing and he does. Still, the unease …

“You alright, brother?” Dean swallows again against the bile in his throat and looks up at them.

“Yeah, I … yeah. Set it up.”

“You sure, Dean?”

“Yeah.” He really, really isn’t.

 

 

 

 

It’s Friday night and Castiel is standing in his doorway and fidgeting. He looks … fuck, he looks amazing. Dean tries to smile encouragingly but from the look on Castiel’s face he fails miserably.

“Is this alright?” Castiel asks quietly, worrying the sleeve of his shirt. And oh, alright really isn’t the way to describe it. He’s found a pair of slacks that looks almost too tight, a fitting dark button-up and actually managed to get his hair into something resembling a hairstyle instead of the usual someone-may-just-have-had-their-way-with-me look. Dean’s dying just a little inside. He smiles anyway. He’s always been good at faking it.

“Yeah, you look great.” Castiel nods. He looks like he wants to say something else but thinks the better of it. Dean hates when he does that.

“Thank you. I’ll be going then.”

“Good luck.” He manages to keep the encouraging look on his face until Castiel turns around before it slips off. This … isn’t exactly what he expected. Whoever this guy is, he’s one damn lucky son of a bitch. He’s going to have to be blind, deaf and dumb not to be knocked dead by Cas tonight. Which means they’ll probably hit it off. Which means he should probably vacate the apartment because there will probably be sex. Which means … oh Jesus Christ, he can’t do it. Dean is out of his chair in a flash, almost stumbling into the living room where Castiel has his hand on the doorknob. He looks about as surprised as Dean feels. Well, if you add a good amount of the terrified wild animals in Dean’s stomach that is.

“Dean?” It’s like the tone of Castiel’s voice opens the flood gates and suddenly he can’t keep it in.

“Look, I know you asked me for this and I’m sure you could have a lot of fun tonight but … please don’t go. I’m an idiot for ever even agreeing to this in the first place and I want you to be happy and … shit, if you go I’m just gonna make myself crazy because you’re with him and not me.” There’s a split second of silence that seems like an eternity where a million ways he now fucked everything up because he’s a selfish prick run through his head and then all tension seems to bleed out of Castiel at once. He takes a step towards Dean and smiles, small and open.

“Thank God,” he offers.

“What?”

“There is no one, Dean.”

“What?” He feels dumb and repetitive but seriously … what? Castiel sighs and shrugs in response, unsure but never breaking their gaze.

“It was Charlie’s idea. She said she was tired of this stalemate and if I could just make you think you were losing me …”

“I … but … but what if I set you up?”

“She was very adamant you wouldn’t.” Fucking hell … well, it figured that Charlie would one day turn the whole planning business against him. She knows him too well and there’s a reason she’s the goddamn queen.

“… Okay … so, what now?” This is new, for both of them. Dean’s been trying to suppress the part of him that not only wants to fuck Castiel but wants to wrap him up and never let him go for a long time, he doesn’t know how to handle this.

“Now … I was hoping you would kiss me and then we could order pizza and watch a movie?” Castiel looks so hopeful, so unsure, there’s really only one choice for Dean.

“Sounds good,” he says with a smile and then closes the distance between them. Castiel’s lips on his feel different than he’d imagined when he allowed himself to do so, dry and chapped as they are, but perfect all the same. After a moment of hesitation Dean’s hands come up to cradle Castiel’s face and he draws back to look at him for a moment. Then he goes back in for a second, third contact of lips before deepening the kiss and allowing himself to just get lost in this, to finally let himself want this and take it. Castiel sighs when they finally part, blue eyes blinking open with a dazed, fond look.

“Hey,” Dean murmurs with a smile, resting their heads together. It’s perfect when Castiel smiles back.

“Hello, Dean.”

**Author's Note:**

> This came out of boredom and the usual everything-is-Destiel. I hope it's not too stupid. ;)


End file.
